


Kintsugi

by Tirassi



Category: MEJIBRAY
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, F/M, Het, Mental Disorder, Romance, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 01:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11910681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tirassi/pseuds/Tirassi
Summary: "KINTSUGI: the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. As a philosophy, it treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise." -wikipediaTsuzuku x reader romance and exploration of dealing with mental disorders.





	Kintsugi

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: 
> 
> Depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, other mental disorders
> 
> These are my own interpretations of my own disorders, and may or may not be how other people experience them. However, things will get pretty deep in future chapters, so I will add tags as necessary.

                It was a warm day, sunny with a gentle breeze, which wafted the scent of sakura blossoms and water along with it.  There wasn’t much noise at this hour, with most people still at work or in school.  A few people did pass by, including a mother with a small child clinging to a stuffed bear that had seen better days, and couple dressed in matching yukatas.  Everything about the area was serenely beautiful, nearly fake in its calmness and splendor.  Yet it was entirely real, and the fullness of my reality of being here was still coming to light.  I’ve been here for a couple of months now on a student visa, working while learning.  The two went hand in hand, really.  I taught English while learning Japanese, and I both taught and learned from my students and teachers alike.  Many parts of the language are still a bit lost on me, I get some of the more obscure parts of speech confused, and I don’t know as much Kanji as I would like, but still, I learn more every day.  Honestly, just figuring out a system for it all helped me immensely.

                Today had been good so far, just like the rest of my time here.  Yes, there was some stress, as I expected.  Diving headfirst into a country so different from your own has its share of ups and downs, but overall, it’s been wonderful thus far.  I liked my tiny apartment in Yokohama.  It was smaller than I was used to, having spent my life growing up in a 6 bedroom house, but actually, it was a relief to have _less_ space.  Easier to clean, and with nowhere to put anything, money wasn’t spent on foolishness.  Usually.  Admittedly, I chose to sacrifice some room space for closet space to accommodate my ever-growing collection of Lolita outfits.  In fact, that’s where I had been all morning.  After a couple of hours of trying on different combinations, and getting help from the staff, I left the Baby, The Stars Shine Bright store with a beautiful new OP, which I had actually chosen to put on before leaving.  It was for this reason that I left my apartment wearing very neutral shoes and accessories, because I knew was going to by _something._  

                So here I am, the place I’ve dreamt of coming for years, a job I enjoy, a cute apartment with a cute cat, and access to all of the things I love.  For the past several years, I’ve really only cared about three things; animals, visual kei, and Lolita fashion, and only one of those was available in my country.  But I have everything I need to be happy, right here at my fingertips, so…

                Why aren’t I happy?  All the years of malaise, listlessness, wanderlust; the constant worry that kept me on edge, the fear of sleep that made me exhausted even though my body wanted rest, the lack of motivation for anything, even the things I really wanted to do.  For years, it was terrible, and I tried every medication on the market.  I tried therapy, counseling, reiki, homeopathics.  All of it.  Nothing helped.  So, with my connections to my old home finally gone, and the freedom to do as I chose, I came to the one place I dreamt of for years.  And on the surface, I do feel better, I am happier. 

                But this…this is deeper.  This clings, it gnaws, it eats away at my sanity and the last vestiges of hope in my heart, and soon there will likely be nothing left.  And I don’t know what to do. 

                As I continued to sit and think, to contemplate my choices and my path, and look for answers, I had zoned out enough that I failed to notice someone approach.  At first, he just sat on the bench next to me and lit a cigarette.  I figured he just sat there because there was an ashtray on that side of the bench, and it was lovely looking over the water.  But there was more to it than that.  I could feel his eyes on me, but not in a creepy way.  He was studying me, but not my appearance.  It was…deeper.  I didn’t move, didn’t speak, barely breathed.  I just focused on the water in front of me.  I think I did jump a bit when he spoke.

                “You look lost.” 

                “Hmm?  I, oh, no, I just stopped here to think for a while before going back home.”  I blushed a bit and looked down at my hands.  The man snickered.

                “No.  I mean… _lost._  In your mind.  Something is eating away at you, and you don’t know how to stop it.”

                Was I really that transparent?  Was this guy just really observant?  Perhaps he was a demon or something.  “Well, I guess, I…yeah.  Maybe.  But…how…?”

                “How could I tell?  I’ve been there myself, for a long time.  But I don’t want to talk about me.  What’s your story?”

                “Well…I recently moved here.  I thought that moving here would help alleviate some of the negative feelings I’ve been having all my life.”  I described to him everything I had been through.  Why I was spilling my soul to this stranger I’ll never know.  I still hadn’t fully looked at him.  His voice seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it at the moment.  I was still almost afraid to look at him, in case what I saw was incredibly horrible.

                “There’s more to it, though.  Sometimes…I feel like I’m going out of my head.  My inner demons start to whisper, and sometimes they scream.  They tell me horrible things, make me doubt myself, my friends, my family.  Sometimes I don’t understand what they’re saying because it’s too fast, too jumbled.  My entire head fills with it.  It’s like those scenes in horror movies where the character’s head begins to shake so fast it becomes a blur, and every thought overlaps and becomes unintelligible.  It just keeps becoming more erratic, more terrifying, and I can’t stop to focus on even a single thought, and I feel like all I can do is scream.  And sometimes that’s all I hear, horrible screaming, shrieking, panic.  And then…it goes quiet.  Sudden silence that’s so still all I can hear is my heart racing and my breath hitching in my chest.  Then slowly…the normal thoughts come back, but still, deep inside, I hear the horrible things.  But at least then I can rationalize and try to block them out, though I usually fail.”  I sighed heavily when I stopped speaking, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my lap and stare down at the ground.  The man, who had been silent but attentive, slid closer and mimicked my posture.  He was wearing long pants and a hoodie, but I still didn’t look at his face.  However, I did glance at his hands.  The tattoos were unmistakable, and I now knew why I recognized the voice.  I kept quiet about it, though.

                “Has that stopped since you came here?”

                “No, that’s just it.  I was hoping that coming to the place where I thought I’d be happy, because it has everything I love, would make me feel better.  And on the surface, it has.  The wanderlust and malaise are gone.  But the anxiety isn’t.  The constant worry even though I can’t think of a single thing that’s wrong, the feeling of dread that washes over me the second my mind isn’t focused on a specific thing, like a show or a song or a task, the fear of going to sleep because I know the nightmares are so bad, or the chance of sleep paralysis washing over me again.  That’s all still there.  Nothing helps.  Not being here, not being able to buy the clothes and CDs I love, not the scenery and way of life I enjoy.  Not therapy or medication or homeopathic remedies.” 

                “Ice cream?”

                “…what?”

                “Ice cream helps.  Come on.” 

                “I-“  I couldn’t even finish the thought before he stood and the tattooed hand reached out for my own.  I stared for a moment, then took it, remaining silent as he helped pull me to my feet.  He let go as we started walking, and for a few minutes, we were silent again as I followed him to this apparently magical ice cream place.

                “So what’s your name?”

                “Oh.  It’s ____.  I’m sorry for not introducing myself properly.”  I bowed a bit as I apologized.

                “It’s nice to meet you, ____.  Judging by the way you looked at my hand, you know who I am.  And yet, you seem completely unfazed.  It’s… refreshing, actually.  And there’s no need to apologize.  I didn’t give you much of chance.”

                I smiled a bit.  He was surprisingly bold, yet kind and gentle.  I don’t know what I was expecting him to be like, honestly.  I had gone to a couple of lives, but didn’t get a chance to meet them yet.  Though this was certainly not what I was expecting.  It was nice though, getting to meet and talk as just people, without the awkward musician-fan dynamic and managers peering over shoulders to ensure proper conduct. 

                “What made you decide to come talk to me?”

                “Well, honestly, one doesn’t often see a foreign Lolita who pulls of the look so well.  But when I looked closer, I saw the look of someone who’s mind was delving into the same places mine has.  I thought maybe I could help.  Or even just listen.  Sometimes that’s all someone needs.  And I figured, us being strangers… well, there would be no bias, no judgement.  Was I right?”

                “Uhm… yeah.” I giggled softly, hiding a smile and a blush behind my hand.  This was the first time I started to feel something other than a negativity so deep I didn’t care who I was talking to or why.  I felt…better, just talking to him, connecting, person to person.  “I went to Aokigahara a few weeks ago.”

                “Oh?  What did you think?”

                “It was…surreal.  It felt…different.  Almost oppressive, but not quite.  I feel like…if I was in a different mindset, it would have been a pleasant experience, like it is for many people who visit.”

                “That’s true.  That place…it feeds on emotions and amplifies them.  If you go there happy, peaceful, serene, then you can marvel at its splendor and leave feeling refreshed.  If you go there feeling sad or angry, then it almost becomes hard to leave, because it starts to crush you.”

                “Exactly!  That’s how I felt.  The farther in I went, I felt like the air was thicker, heavier.  The sunlight wasn’t as warm.  The voices in my head almost seemed to be coming from the trees.  But when I passed other people, they looked fine, so I could tell that it was just me, that the forest was…it felt almost like it was consuming me.  I started to go off the path because I felt compelled to, but I knew it would be foolish to stray too far.”  I paused, trying to continue retelling my experience without being overwhelmed by it again.  “I kept my hand on one of the ropes the entire way in and back, I gripped it like my life depended on it, because I think it did.  But as I went further in, I started to think about the ropes, what they meant, what I might find if I kept going.  And honestly?  I…I envied them.  Those that had done it.  Made that final commitment.  I wanted to, but I was afraid.  Not to die, I’m not afraid to at all, I welcome it, actually.  But afraid to leave my loved ones.  I think...I think it would be so much easier to through with it, you know, if you had no one.  You know, no one to be strong for, to hold on for, to fight for.  It would be so much easier to give it all up if there was no one there.  But for me, I struggle because I know I’m not alone, I know I have people that love me and care about me, and would be devastated if I was gone.  So I have to be strong for them.  But…sometimes it’s so hard, and now I just feel hopeless because I don’t know what else to try…I mean…what else is there?”

                “I told you.  Ice cream.”  He grinned and gently tugged my hand to ensure I followed him.  “Trust me, I know how that feels.  I’ve been there too, hoping for a miracle, or at least an answer.”

                “And you found it in the form of a delicious dairy treat?”

                “Well.  Somewhat.  I’m not sure what to do about the bigger picture yet, so I’ve been trying to be more active in taking pleasure in the small things.  But I also agree with you on the sleep thing.  I hate doing it, I hate going to bed, because I know I’m by myself and that there’s no one there.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve called up a friend at 3 in the morning and asked to come sleep on the couch.  It got to the point where they just started leaving the door unlocked with a blanket on the couch and a warning not to call or wake them unless it was an actual emergency.”  The thought of the look on Aryu’s face when he called yet again make him smile.  “I mean…its better than nothing.  I’d rather be uncomfortable on someone’s couch or floor, knowing they’re only a room away, than to be comfortable in my own bed with only silence or the cat.”

                “Mm-hmm.  I agree.  Though I don’t really have that option.  I don’t really have any friends here, at least not that I would feel comfortable doing that to.”

                “Mmm.  No, you have one friend.  And he’s taking you to get ice cream.” 

                We finally reached the place he was talking about.  It was small and I had actually meant to stop there before, but never got around to it.  It was one of those places that made all their ice cream from scratch, then flattened it out and made it into little rolls before serving it.  There were a surprising number of flavor choices.  I decided on blueberry.  He started to order vanilla, but I just looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

                “I can’t think of a single instance in history in which any kind of ailment was alleviated with plain vanilla.”  I grinned a bit.  With a defeated sigh, he shook his head and ordered lychee flavored instead, though with a questioning look to me.  I nodded in approval, and got out my wallet to pay for my own.  He huffed a bit and waved it away, paying for both before I had a chance to protest. 

                After we were served, we found another nearby bench to sit and eat.  “You know, you might be right.  This ice cream is pretty fantastic.”

                “See, I told you.   So… you have plans after this?”

                “Yeah, I was gonna go back home, sit with my cat, contemplate existentialism and slip a bit further into madness.  You?”

                “Same, same.”  He paused for a moment, and for the first time since we began speaking, he seemed…unsure.  “Actually…I know we just met, and feel free to say no, but… maybe you want to come over and watch some crappy movies or something?  You look like you really need sleep, and my couch actually isn’t bad.  I have a nice kotatsu and it’s actually pretty comfortable.  I sleep on it a lot because it feels less isolated than the bedroom.”

                This time I know I blushed, and I bit my lip.  “Well…yeah.  That could be fun.  I haven’t had much of a chance to connect with anyone and make friends.  I’ve been so busy between work and school, and interacting with others while having to put on a happy face is so exhausting that when I get a day off, I just need to be left alone to recharge, even though I hate the feeling of being alone.”

                “Exactly.  So let’s be alone together.  We can sit on opposite ends of the couch and not talk.”

                I laughed and nodded as I finished up my ice cream and threw away the packaging.  “Is it okay if I change first, though?  I really want to get out of this petti.  I love being a Lolita, but I also love being a lazy slacker and dressing like one.  From the closest station to here, It’s usually about a 15 minute ride.”

                “Sure, no problem.   I don’t mind waiting in the hallway for you.” 

                I was honestly still surprised by the modesty of men here.  He literally just invited me over to his house to watch a movie, but was fully ready to stand in the hallway outside my apartment because I had to change, despite there being multiple rooms with doors.  I nodded and waited for him to finish, then we headed for the station. 

                Once we arrived, I did invite him in, but he politely declined, stating he felt it was rude to enter a lady’s apartment after just meeting, even though he had full permission.  So, I did my best to change quickly into a comfortable tshirt and shorts, then slipped on a pair of flats as I headed out the door.  “Okay, I’m ready and my cat is fed.  She’ll be fine.”  I wasn’t an expert in reading people, but I do believe he did blush a bit at seeing me dressed in such a way that I wasn’t fully covered.

                “Oh.  I didn’t realize you had tattoos.”

                “Yep.  I purposely keep them in easily concealable locations for work, since I hate having long sleeves on.”  Slinging my small backpack with some basic sundries over my shoulder, I walked next to him back to the station.  The ride to his apartment wasn’t too bad, and I had just a small moment of ‘OMG I live SO CLOSE to one of my favorite vocalists.’  Why that was my OMG moment, and not the conversation, the ice cream, or the movie date, I will never know.  I’ll just chalk it up to my mental instability.

                His place was quite nice, larger than I expected, though I’m not sure why.  He certainly had the money to afford it.  There were a few instruments, a computer hooked up to a sizable monitor, and a stack of papers full of some sort of chicken scratch which looked chicken scratchy even by Japanese writing system standards, which I assumed were lyrics.  I didn’t spend too much time paying attention because it wasn’t my business for one, and two, I don’t like spoilers.

                “Come sit.” 

                I quickly moved to the sofa and slipped my legs underneath the blanket, sighing happily at the warmth.  It had gotten rather chilly after the sun went down, so I was grateful for this, and to be perfectly honest, the kotatsu was just one of many things Japan does better than most places.  What a brilliant idea.  He joined me, though we both sat somewhat closer to the middle and not on the ends as we had joked about.

                “What kind of movie are you in the mood for?”

                “Hmmm.  Horror.  Good, bad, doesn’t matter.”

                He scrolled through the choices on Netflix, and I suggested one that was about some possessed nuns.  It was honestly not bad, and kept my attention well enough that I didn’t notice that we had actually drifted closer.  Once that movie had ended and he picked another, I found myself feeling quite sleepy.  It wasn’t late, but I was…comfortable, relaxed. Something I wasn’t used to.  I didn’t realize I was leaning on him until he spoke.  “Want me to slide the kotatsu out of the way and grab a regular blanket, in case you fall asleep?”

                “Oh, sure.”  I sat up, blushing a bit, and vowing not to lean on him again.  He hadn’t said anything, but I figured he was just being polite.  We moved the kotatsu off to the side and he got out a regular comforter and threw it over me, making me giggle.  He then sat down next to me again and resumed the movie.  I remained upright this time, not touching him, until his arm jutted out and beckoned me against him again.

                “You won’t come into my apartment, but you want to have your arm aroun me”  I giggled and shook my head.

                “That’s different.  I didn’t want to invade your space, even though you invited me in.  But this is my space.   You don’t have to sit anywhere near me if you don’t want to.  But you seemed comfortable and much more at ease than you did when we first started talking, so I assumed you wanted to.”  He frowned and gave me an actual sad look.  “Was…was I wrong?”  the disappointment was palpable to the extent that even if he was, I would have lied and said no.

                “No, no.  Not at all.  But I don’t want you to do it if you don’t want to…”

                “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have moved closer and pulled you against me.  I did it slowly so I didn’t freak you out, but you were moving closer anyway, so…” At that point, both of us blushed and giggled liked school children, realizing that something was definitely happening here.  I nodded and rested against him again. 

                I don’t remember how the movie ended.  I remember watching it, getting to a scene where some lady was being chased by an evil spirit, and then my alarm screaming at me, telling me it was time to get up for work.  Was it really morning already?  Wait…already?  I had apparently been asleep for nearly seven hours.  That hadn’t happened in years.  The couch really was comfortable.  But…so was lying next to him.  We weren’t cuddling, or even facing each other.  I was on my back, and he was on his  side facing away from me.  One of the magical features of reclining couches, really, the ability to lay like that.  We were touching, though.  I could feel the warmth of his back against my arm.  Apparently my alarm hadn’t woken him, which I was grateful for.  It was still early, because I knew I would need to get back home and change for work, and still make the train on time.  It wasn’t until I was quietly gathering my things that he spoke, so groggily I could barely understand his muttering.

                “Leaving already?  It’s early…”

                “Well, I have to get home and get ready for work…I don’t want to be late.”  I frowned a bit as he grunted and rolled onto his back. 

                “I have to get up soon too.  I have meetings and a practice session today.  But I was finally comfortable for once… I actually slept.”

                “Yeah, me too.”

                “So…rather than sit alone and contemplate existentiality, maybe we can go out to dinner tonight?  Like, a real dinner?  Doesn’t have to be someplace fancy.  I know of a really nice restaurant that’s small and comfortable.  It’s actually got some western influence, and serves a few western dishes, so it might remind you of home and make you feel better.”

                Jesus Christ, was he really that thoughtful?  “Yeah, that sounds great.  I have morning classes, which is my work, and then in the afternoon, I have my classes which are…classes.  So I’ll be done at 5 today.  I should be home, showered and ready by…6:30?  So any time after that, I guess.”

                “Okay.  I’ll pick you up.  Oh, and can you leave me your number or LINE so I can message you?”  I hadn’t even thought of that, so I quickly scribbled both onto a sheet of paper and left it on the desk with his scratchy notes. 

                “On the desk by your computer.  See you later.”

                “Yep.  See ya.”

                As I made my way home, I felt more energetic than I had in a long time.  Could that have been what I was missing this entire time?  The one variable I had never factored into the equation: companionship.  I never dated much because I only ever met assholes, and all of my friends were not only women, but in relationships themselves, and had no time for such indulgences anymore, like sleepovers and bad movies.  There was no denying there was a spark between us, one based not solely on physical attraction, but finding someone that had the same problems and desires as you, the same needs to be fulfilled.  He needed someone to vent to, and so did I.  He needed someone to be real with, and so did I.  We both needed someone who really understood because they had actually BEEN to those dark, terrible, frightening places, not just someone that had enough empathy to sort of understand that you were having a rough time.  We both slept because we weren’t alone.  There was someone there to assuage the fears, because even if the nightmares came, we could wake up and not be alone, and have someone to talk to about it that could provide immediate comfort and warmth, unlike a voice on the phone. 

                Yes, Tsuzuku was an amazing human, extraordinary in his ordinariness, just as real and broken and repairable as me.  All it would take would be the right tools and the right person for the job.  Immediately I began to think of myself as broken pottery.  All these years I had tried to use glue, and the glue never held or just looked terrible and ugly.  But now, I had found him, and suddenly, we were both becoming more like Kintsugi.


End file.
